


i don't play hard to get (i play to get you hard)

by sheithism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Porn, Barebacking, Fluff, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:39:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheithism/pseuds/sheithism
Summary: Keith starts out in twink porn - of course he does, he’s eighteen, all big dark eyes and delicate features. He never planned on being a porn star, it just sort of happened. And he wasn't exactly expecting to meet Mr. Right on the job, either.





	i don't play hard to get (i play to get you hard)

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is a porn AU, simple as that, with no real world building besides “what if neither of them ended up at the Galaxy Garrison?” 100x fluffier than advertised.

Keith starts out in twink porn - of course he does, he’s eighteen, all big dark eyes and delicate features. He never planned on being a porn star, it just sort of happened. His late teens had been one hit after another - losing his dad, getting bounced from home to home, the brief flash of hope when the Galaxy Garrison scouts came and that familiar resigned feeling when they took that asshole Jason and left behind the “discipline case” to rot in a shitty Arizona public school. He’d aged out a few months ago with no real prospects and, well, everyone has their story about how they got into porn.

His first shoot was a solo scene, and it seemed easy enough: sit on the sofa and just… go for it. Except, sweating under the lights with two cameramen and six assorted crew members clustered around him, it was hard to think of anything sexy, let alone try to act it. 

Keith had had sex, but it was mostly hurried handjobs that were the wrong side of too dry, or sloppy and unsatisfying blowjobs. The name of the game in high school had been “It’s not gay if we’re just getting each other off,” and so that’s all it was. He had never had exploratory sex, never had the chance to slow down and figure out what was sexy and what was not. He was going into this blind, basically, but Allura - a woman who looked far too nice and normal to be the owner and operator of a gay porn empire - had liked the look of him, and so here he was, woefully unprepared. At least they’d soft-balled his first scene. Better this than the “Twink Takes Four Monster Cocks” porn he’d been horrified to discover when he was trying to get a feel for what exactly he’d gotten himself into.

But still, Keith felt deeply awkward, slowly shimmying out of the shorts and t-shirt they put him in, peeling away the briefs, biting and licking his lips compulsively just so he had something to do with himself. It took him far too long to get off, but the director just told him to keep going, to tease himself, to spin it out. He fingered himself for the first time, on camera, and… yeah. Yeah. It was good. Better than that time with Jason, and much better than the rest of the shoot where he just felt overheated and squirmy and flushed and deeply, deeply unsexy. When he finally came, it was with a quiet, punched out gasp. He knew he should’ve been making noises - isn’t that what pornstars do? - but the director just nodded, satisfied, and called it a wrap.

The entire experience was awkward and vaguely humiliating, but the money was good. Better than he could have dreamed, because the video… well, it was wildly successful.

"It pains me to say it, man, but you’re kind of a natural at this," Lance said, nodding his head sagely. He had gleefully introduced himself as the leading man of Altea Productions, practically sparkling, and told Keith to “watch and learn, pretty boy.” Even though Lance was basically a bad frat boy porn cliche come to life, and as a result a bit of a cocky asshole, he was genuinely, surprisingly nice. 

"Really?" Keith raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "Because during the shoot I definitely didn’t feel like a natural. Sicky and awkward and kind of gross are probably more accurate."

Lance shrugged, shoving a turkey sandwich from craft services into his mouth. “It works for you I guess?” He mumbled out around his mouthful and god - he still managed to be disgustingly handsome even with half-chewed food in his mouth. 

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re a shitty actor, but that made it seem… more genuine, I guess. Like you weren’t faking it - which I guess you weren’t. But anyway, that isn’t the important part. The real question,” he broke off to smirk evilly at Keith, “is if you’re ready for your first actual scene.”

Keith winced. It had only been a week since his solo scene went up on the website, but Allura had said that the response had been so overwhelming that they wanted to get a “real” scene out as soon as possible. Which meant that Keith told his roommates he was going job hunting when, really, he already had a job and that job meant he was going to (probably) spend his weekend taking it up the ass in front of three cameras.

"Allura wasn’t really clear about, uh… who would be bottoming," Keith said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact because, dear god, when did this become his life?

"Hm, between you and Shiro? Not exactly a tough call… You’re pretty twinktastic after all, and Shiro could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat." Lance said with a wink and a nudge at Keith’s shoulder.

"Wait, you know Shiro?"

"Of course! He’s almost as fresh as you, but he has done a few non-solo scenes. One with Gags - cute nickname for a pornstar - and another one with Chad. He topped in both of those scenes, but rumor has it he’s pretty versatile." Lance smirked, slow and dirty, milking this for all he was worth. "He’s generally a nice, chill guy but I’ve seen one of his scenes and he gets pretty… dominant. If you’re into that. Good with his tongue, too, from what I’ve heard."

"Oh my god, please shut up." Keith buried his face in his hands. Lance was a menace.

"It’s cute, how much of a prude you still are. I’m sure someone will fuck it out of you soon." Lance’s self-satisfied look was pure evil. "Maybe that someone is Shiro."

Maybe Keith should just drown himself during his pre-scene shower. Lance was the assistant director for the shoot, and anything would be better than choking on dick and having to see his smug, smug face over the mysterious Shiro’s shoulder.

\---

Shiro, last name redacted, looked a few years older than Keith and had stupid hair and an even stupider smile. Keith kind of wanted to fluff the little tuft of hair at the front. In other news, his mouth was obscene and his shoulders were… well. They just were. There was something magnetic in his warm grey eyes and easy smile, and Keith didn’t fluster easily, but he was… definitely flustered.

“The reason we didn’t assign top or bottom is because we want this to be natural," the director said. He was middle aged and rather unremarkable, and Keith had forgotten his name instantly, lost in his own anxiety. He never imagined his first time doing anal (that time in high school when “what I’m not gay a hole is a hole” just barely got the tip in before coming definitely didn’t count) would be for porn but, well, here he was. 

"Once the cameras start rolling, just pretend they aren’t there," the director continued.

Keith bit back a retort. Even from his limited experience, he had deduced that filming porn was deeply unsexy. The lights were too bright and waiting while they reset lighting and cameras and sound was a definite boner-killer. In theory, he’d always imagined himself a bit of an exhibitionist. But, fucking in front of a makeup artist three times his age wasn’t exactly sexy.

He snapped back to attention as the director continued. “I want you two to just feel each other out - pun very much intended.” The director let out a chuckle, and Keith couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Beside him, Shiro snorted, and Keith glanced over to see Shiro smiling at him, eyes warm like they’d just shared an inside joke, like they were old friends. Keith felt a shiver of something - want, maybe even pleasure, an unfamiliar swooping sensation - flutter in his stomach, and he bit his lip and looked away. 

He didn’t want to get attached to Shiro. It was always a bad idea, mixing business with pleasure even though that was literally what he was about to do, but there was something magnetic about Shiro, something undeniable.

The director continued, blithely ignorant. “See where the scene takes you. I’ll try to offer as little direction as possible - I just want you two to do what feels right. We’ll film all the foreplay and prep, so don’t feel like you need to rush through anything. We’re on a budget, obviously, but quality is more important, even if we do go over time a little. Our viewers have expressed a desire for “realistic” porn, and that’s what we’re going to give them. The storyline is, technically, that you two are high school boyfriends, both virgins, having sex for the first time. But if that’s not where you want to take it, that’s fine.” He turned to look at Shiro. “Shiro, you have more experience here, so I want you to take the lead. Keith, just do what you’ve been doing.”

Keith swallowed. The idea of being at Shiro’s mercy was surprisingly appealing. But that - that was definitely something to be explored at a later date or, for the sake of his sanity, never.

"Okay boys. Get on the bed, and we’re ready when you are."

\--------

Keith froze up. It was vaguely humiliating. He didn’t actually have much experience with kissing because, well, see: closeted assholes from rural Arizona who just skipped straight to the main event. He knew how this should start - Shiro was sitting beside him, hand on his knee, expectant, and Lance was making dumb smoochy faces from beyond the ring of lights - but he felt his entire body tense anyway. _Fuck_.

Shiro noticed immediately, something softening in his eyes. He grinned, broad and a little silly, and reached over to cup Keith’s dick, plumped a little just by virtue of Shiro’s proximity. 

Shiro said, tone deadpan but eyes twinkling like he was some sort of shoujo manga heroine, “Good thing I’m not a vegetarian, because that’s one _great_ piece of meat.”

He said it with such relish and it was so patently ridiculous that Keith couldn’t help his ugly, snorting laughter. He flopped back onto the bed because, god, how was this idiot even a real person? Or, more importantly, how and why was Keith attracted to him?

Shiro’s smile softened and he leaned a little closer. “Better?” he murmured, and Keith felt himself leaning in, drawn towards him. “It’s just me. No need to worry about anything. I’ll take care of you.” That hit Keith in the gut, shivery and good, but he didn’t have time to process it before Shiro leaned the rest of the way in.

Shiro was surprisingly sweet, cupping Keith’s jaw and gently angling his head, pressing soft, chaste kisses against his mouth, a slow press of lips that felt lazy, hypnotic, like he was coaxing Keith under his spell. Shiro pulled away so Keith could catch his breath, scattering little butterfly touches across the tops of his cheeks and on the tip of his nose. It was unbearably intimate, something you do when you’re infatuated, when you're in love, and Keith felt helpless in the face of it. He opened up for Shiro, melting into the hand at the small of his back, losing himself in the sensation. 

It was so sweet, so loving... and, well, it felt a lot like a reality check. Of course Shiro was acting like this - the script, if you could call it that, called for smitten high school boyfriends. Keith would be an idiot to think it could be something else. 

(But, in the back of his mind, Keith couldn’t help but think of what Lance had said - that Shiro was “dominant.” The way he was acting now, sweet and so gentle, that was far from domineering. But the thought of it...)

No. There was no room for that. He was here to do a job, after all.

Mind made up, Keith kissed back with all he had, licking into Shiro’s mouth as filthy as he knew how. Shiro let out a low, hungry sound, his grip at Keith’s waist tightening and fuck, fuck, that sent a surge of heat straight to his dick. Shiro was stupidly handsome and built like a brick shithouse and probably lightyears out of Keith’s league, but Keith wanted him anyway. And, Keith always went after what he wanted.

He surged up, climbing into Shiro’s lap and kissing him hard and dirty. Shiro’s hands dropped to his ass, grabbing too fistfulls and _squeazing_. Keith couldn’t help the whimper that elicited. He tried to bury the noise in Shiro’s hot, slick mouth and, to distract himself, he pulled his shirt, and then Shiro’s, up and off. But, the distraction didn’t last, not with Shiro kneading the flesh of his ass, guiding Keith’s hips in a slow, dirty grind. He could feel Shiro’s dick, thick and heavy, against his ass. Helplessly, Keith’s hips twitched, sliding his own cock against Shiro’s stomach. He’d never gotten so hard from so little before, and he felt dizzy and overwhelmed.

“Hey, easy,” Shiro said, low, his voice rough. “This isn’t a race.”

Contrary to his own words, Shiro laid hungry, biting kisses down the length of Keith’s neck. Keith let out a low moan, tipping his head back. In the back of his mind, he registered that it probably made a pretty picture for the camera - Keith, a flush high on his cheeks, straddling Shiro’s lap with his spine and neck arched and a look of pure bliss on his face; Shiro, eyes dark with lust, his hands rough and possessive on Keith’s ass and his hungry mouth sucking a dark mark into the delicate skin of Keith’s neck. 

Keith knew he should probably be making noises, something more than the breathy pants each pass of tongue and nip of teeth pulled from him, but right now, Keith was just lost in the sensation. It was dangerous, letting himself forget that this was a shoot, that this was being filmed. But there was nothing fake in how badly he wanted this, and he hoped the same held true for Shiro.

“Keith?" The director’s voice, prim and unaffected, cut through the lust-addled haze in Keith’s mind. "Push Shiro flat on his back for me and then, Shiro, flip him over.” 

Dutifully, he placed a palm in the center of Shiro’s chest and pushed, gently. Shiro fell back, holding Keith’s gaze, and fuck - Keith wanted him so badly.

He followed Shiro down, drawn inexorably back to Shiro’s kiss-bitten lips. They were red and obscene and fuck, Shiro knew how to kiss someone stupid. So stupid that Keith forgot what was coming next, blissfully unaware as Shiro slid one hand to the back of his neck and the other to his waist, and then pushed.

Keith found himself staring up at the ceiling, momentarily stupefied, and Shiro took advantage of the moment, pinning Keith’s wrists above his head with ease and dropping his full weight on top of Keith, trapping him. Keith’s hips jerked up and he bit his lip to muffle his gasp because, yup, he was into it. Shiro smirked knowingly, kissing him once and then releasing his wrists.

“Maybe another time,” Shiro whispered, and Keith couldn’t help but wonder wildly what Shiro could mean by another time. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, because Shiro was kissing down his body, lingering at his nipples and nipping his way down to Keith’s waistband. He undid the fly, looking up at Keith through his lashes the whole time, expression coy and hungry all at once. 

Shiro slid off Keith’s shorts and boxers and just laid between his legs staring at Keith’s cock, considering it with a playful expression. Keith felt himself flush even more. He was almost embarrassingly wet, the tip of his cock peeking out past the foreskin. 

“Get on with it,” Keith muttered, churlish.

“Get on with what?” Shiro asked, batting his long dark eyelashes. Keith felt himself tense. One of the cameramen had swooped in for close-ups, and Keith was now very, very conscious of the cameras on them.

“You know what,” he snapped, too on edge to play along

Shiro smirked, slow and dirty. “Mm, but I want to hear you say it. Nice boys like you ask for what they want, don’t they?”

Fuck. That really hit him where he lived - not a kink he thought he’d ever have, but Shiro was just one surprise after another. “And I thought guys like you just take what they want,” he shot back, going for smug but mostly just frustrated at having that mouth so close to his dick.

“Oh, I’m going to take you,” Shiro said, rough, his pupils visibly dilating in a way that sent a pulse of need through Keith. “And you’re going to love it.”

It shouldn’t be hot. It really, really shouldn’t be hot. Keith felt another pearl of pre-come beading up at the tip of his cock and fuck, he was helpless in the face of this man and his inexplicable sex appeal.

Shiro jerked Keith across the bed, pulling him even closer, moving him like he weighed nothing before leaning in and licking up the pre-come at the tip of Keith’s cock, making a happy humming noise in the back of his throat. He worked his tongue against the head, a tease, and more than anything it was the visual that had Keith gasping: Shiro, staring up at him, his tongue lapping in kittenish passes, his obscene lips wrapped around the tip. 

Shiro gently drew the foreskin back, licking at the slit, tonguing just under the head and fuck, he knew every button to push. He pulled off, lips slick and smile lazy, and then - then he went to town. Shiro’s mouth was pure sin as he slid it, slow and filthy, down the length of Keith’s cock until his lips met the hand fisted at the base of Keith’s dick. He pulled off and then, impossibly, took Keith even deeper. It was plush and hot and wet, Shiro’s thumbs pressing into the hollows of his hipbones, stilling Keith’s twitching hips as his tongue worked along the underside. He eased up, sliding his tongue under the foreskin at the head, just toying, and -

“Fuck, Shiro, it’s too much, I’m-”

“Cut! Cut!”

Shiro pulled off with an absolutely filthy pop, his lips wet and his pupils wide. He turned to glare at the director, and at Lance, who looked positively gleeful.

“What.” Shiro said flatly.

“Sorry, Shiro, but our Keithy boy here can’t come quite yet.” Lance sounded far too cheerful for the huge cockblock he was. “Someone needs to get fucked first.” He practically sang it, and Keith wanted to smack him. And no, that was not just the blue balls talking.

But now that he thinks about it, Keith… Keith wants that. He’d never seriously thought about anal, not after that disastrous first time, but now, fuck he really wants Shiro to open him up, slow and dirty, and -

“...if you don’t want to get fucked your first, time, I understand-” Shiro was saying, oddly earnest, his voice pitched low enough to give some semblance of privacy.

“No.” Keith blurted out, suddenly. “I, uh... I really want you to fuck me.” He bit his lip and just looked at Shiro, and Shiro looked back, eyes wide.

“Um, yeah. Yeah. I can - I can do that.”

“Okay,” The director said brusquely. “Why don’t you boys take ten and we’ll reset the equipment.”

Lance smirked, that asshole. “Take ten separately. You both need to cool off.”

Keith hated him. No, really, he did.

 

\--------------------------

Keith spent his ten minutes thinking unsexy thoughts. It only kind of worked. Lance split his time between harassing them both and, when the director called places, he shot Keith a knowing look. What Lance thought he knew, Keith didn’t care to find out.

Keith expected them to get straight to the fucking. What he didn’t expect was to find himself face down on the bed, on his knees with his ass on display. Shiro knelt behind him, just looking, running his hands over Keith’s ass and pulling the cheeks apart, revealing him to the camera.

“Fuck,” Shiro rasped, low and rough. “I really want... can I eat you out?”

The words hit Keith like a punch to the gut, and he lets out a guttural groan at just the idea of it. With his cheek pressed to the mattress and his eyes shut, it was easy to forget about the cameras, about the crew, to get lost in it. And, with his ass shamelessly in the air, it was a simple thing to let go of his inhibitions and just ask for what he wanted. “Yes, please. I - lick me open, just -”

Shiro made a low, hungry sound, desperate like it was dragged out of him, and licked a long stripe up Keith’s cleft. No one had ever done this to him. There had been wandering hands and curious fingers, but never this, hot and wet and so good already that Keith couldn’t help the way he gasped and panted and moaned, the way he squirmed and arched and soundlessly begged for more. His fingers twisted in the sheets as he pushed back against Shiro’s tongue, filthy teasing licks that were so good, yet still not enough. Shiro flicked the tip of his tongue against Keith, spreading him with his thumbs, opening him just the tiniest bit but still not giving him what he wanted, continuing with these teasing, flicking licks that were driving Keith crazy.

Keith’s cock was heavy between his legs, the head a deep hungry red, slicked with precum, and Shiro trailed a lazy finger up Keith’s cock as he lapped at his hole, broad nasty passes of his tongue. Keith panted against the bedspread, open-mouthed and desperate, arching, wordlessly begging for more. He wanted - he wanted Shiro inside of him, wanted that wet, maddening tongue to fill him.

“Shiro…” he rasped out, a plea, and finally, finally, Shiro fucked him with his tongue, alternating the speed and strength - sometimes just a lick around the edge, sometimes wriggling pulses deep inside of him. Keith could feel his dick practically drooling pre-come as he fucked back onto Shiro’s tongue, moaning low in his throat, not for the benefit of the cameras but because he couldn’t help himself.

When Shiro finally pulled away, Keith could feel his hole clenching down around nothing, hungry and desperate. He heard the snick of a bottle opening, and then felt the press of one long, thick finger as Shiro moved up the bed to scatter kisses across the tops of Keith’s shoulders.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” Shiro said, too quietly for the microphones to pick it up. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this - wanted this since the moment I saw you.”

“I must be the luckiest man in the world,” Shiro continued, twisting two glorious fingers into Keith now and making it impossible to think straight, “because I get to have you like this, on your knees for me, desperate for my cock.”

Keith could feel Shiro’s smug smile against the back of his neck and it was impossible to think straight with the way Shiro curled his fingers inside of Keith, making him arch and gasp.

Shiro opened him up slow, murmuring absolute filth into his ear the whole time, his fingers working inside of Keith, brushing up against that spot that made his toes curl. The whole thing was an awful cliche, but it was so good Keith couldn’t string together a coherent thought, could only moan and surrender himself to Shiro. Shiro’s fingers were long and capable, the rough drag of his knuckles under the lube dangerously good. Shiro toyed with him, alternating deep thrusts with shallower ones that pulled at his rim and made Keith whimper.

Distantly, he heard the director say something, probably telling them to hurry up, but he was so lost in Shiro that it barely registered. Shiro pulled away, almost reluctant, and Keith let out a noise that was embarrassingly yearning. Shiro smoothed his hands over Keith’s hips, soothing, and Keith knew what was coming next, knew that he should probably be nervous, maybe even scared, but everything was so easy, so _good_ , with Shiro.

Keith felt the head of Shiro’s dick nudge against his opening and couldn’t help the shudder of want that ran through him. He had known, intellectually, that Shiro would be fucking him bare. He remembers going over the paperwork with Allura, both his and Shiro’s test results a neat list of checks, but actually doing it was something else entirely.

Keith opened up for Shiro criminally easy, the long slide in, in, in so good Keith was shaking with it. He felt so full, split open on Shiro’s cock, the sensation almost too intense.

“Tell me - tell me when I can move,” Shiro gasped out, voice hoarse, his fingers tightening at Keith’s hips. He sounded as desperate as Keith felt.

Keith rocked back into him, experimental, tilting his hips just a little and, fuck. 

“Do it,” Keith said, more order than plea, and Shiro fucked into him, slowly at first, and then faster like he couldn’t help himself. His cock dragged against Keith prostate with every delicious thrust and it shouldn’t have been possible, no one’s first time should be perfect like this, but it was, almost earth-shatteringly good just like everything with Shiro was.

“Can we - on your back, I want to see your face when you come,” Shiro said, soft and almost tender.

 _It’s for the scene, part of the script_ , Keith tried to remind himself, but he didn’t want to believe it, didn’t think he should believe it, not after Shiro’s admission to nursing a seven-year crush. 

So Keith let himself have it, let Shiro flip him over onto his back and fuck him like that, deep steady thrusts, their fingers intertwined above Keith’s head.

Keith came, cock trapped between their bellies, eyes locked with Shiro’s, and Shiro followed him over the edge with a gasped out, “Keith.”

 

\---------------------

There was something unbearably intimate about showering with someone. They’d wrapped up the scene, Lance smirking knowingly the whole time, and then he and Shiro had been ushered into a bathroom to wash the sweat and come away.

Keith felt loose and well-fucked and a little sleepy, content to be manhandled. The lazy way Shiro rubbed shampoo into his hair was so soothing Keith felt himself drifting off, leaning into each little touch. Shiro gently herded him under the spray, washing away the shampoo, and Keith couldn’t help but open his eyes and just look at Shiro, taking in his damp eyelashes, how sinfully long they were, and how pretty his mouth was. All Keith could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss that mouth, away from the cameras.

“Go out with me,” Shiro said, sudden.

“What?” Keith mumbled, tipping his head up, eyes slitted under the sluice of hot water.

“After this - let me take you out.” Shiro’s smile was fond and he leaned in to lay a chaste kiss on Keith’s lips, pulling him from under the spray.

“Wait… really?” Keith couldn’t help how hushed his voice got. “I thought - I thought you were just acting. I mean, it was a scene…”

Shiro rolled his eyes, fond. “I’m not _that_ good of an actor, Keith. And like I told you - I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Trust me, none of what just happened was for the benefit of the cameras.” He suddenly looked vulnerable, bravado gone. “And, um, I hope that that’s the same for you?”

Keith hadn’t wanted to let himself hope. But, he had anyway. He could feel himself smiling, helpless and stupid with it. Shiro smiled back, nudging their noses together like the sap he was.

“You’re so dumb,” Keith said by way of answer, leaning in to kiss the water off of Shiro’s lips until he could taste him underneath. He took Shiro’s hand in his, twining their fingers together. They fit, perfectly, the way he’d always somehow known they would.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few other Sheith works brewing - a firefighter au and an A/B/O Knotting Hill AU (get it?) because I love cracky premises, apparently. I'm looking for people to bounce ideas off of / talk Voltron with / maybe beta read for me so hit me up on tumblr @sheithism. Hope you enjoyed - comments and kudos always appreciated.


End file.
